Best Friends For Life
by Walrus Gumboot
Summary: Sequel to "Just Laugh". After a tiff with the psychotic Joker, A down-on-her-luck Harley Quinn decides to take up residence with the good doctor Pamela Isley.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Warner Bros or DC Comics characters.

_A/N: For those of you who loved, liked, read, hated, accidentally viewed "Just Laugh", I've written this sequel to continue the story of Harley Quinn in the Nolanverse. Hope you enjoy._

**Best Friends For Life**

"You stupid bimbo!" A furious voice growled within the dark, decrepit warehouse. A resounding slap echoed throughout the cement structure and a small blond figure hit the cold, hard ground. The figure was that of Harleen Quinzel, or as she was known to her abuser, Harley Quinn. She shook and shuddered getting up, thinking of something to say to prevent another hit.

"P-puddin', I swear!" She began, getting into a proper standing position. She backed out of the man's swing zone, just in case he tried slapping again. "I didn't mean to! I thought you'd give me a signal or something!"

"Signal?!" The dark figure shouted. "Was me screaming 'Harley now!' not a good enough signal for you?! I gave you one thing to do and you screw it up! And we could've had him to!" He stepped toward her. She put up her hands in a protective manner, even though she knew she couldn't defend herself properly. She squeaked as he grabbed her by the arms and forced her off of the ground.

"Mr. J, please!" Harley pleaded. "I-you've never asked me to do something like that before! I-I never robbed a bank, and he was really intimidating!" She was making direct eye contact with him. She could see the twitches in his face below the smeared white and black makeup, a sign of the explosive anger she was being subjected to.

"Lemme tell you something, _Harley_." The green haired man spoke in a harsh whisper. "I've done a hell of a lot for you. I let you stay here, free of charge. I offed that professor that molested you. I even gave you the confidence to go on those streets and put fear in the hearts of the people that gave you no respect."

Harley gulped. She was still suspended in the air by being pressed up against a wall and held there by his arms. His grip increased as he continued his abusive tirade.

"Now please answer me." He paused and lowered Harley to the ground, but still kept his hands on her. "How hard is it to pull a god damn trigger?!"

Harley said nothing. She knew that he was right. It was a pretty simple plan he came up with after all. They'd both walk into the Gotham National Bank and attempt to rob the place with a couple of lackeys that the clownish crime lord rounded up. But that was just a front. The commotion of the robbery would not only bring the cops, but the enigmatic figure known to the world as Batman. While Batman was busy dealing with the man in the purple suit, Harley would fire a special dart into the superhero's mouth, the only weak point on his entire person. The dart was designed to be strong enough to render him unconscious within thirty seconds. They'd then take his knocked-out corpse and sneak out of the bank, bringing him to their lair, where they'd film the unmasking of the biggest problem to Gotham's underworld.

But she couldn't do it. While the two opposing forces were struggling for dominance, she froze up. All the screaming from her lover didn't help. When he broke away from the Batman, he came up to demand she shoot him now. But the dark knight charged towards the two crime-committing harlequins, preventing a decent opportunity for a clear shot. In a desperate gambit, Harley's lover grabbed several smoke bombs from his pocket and ignited them, obscuring the Batman's sight of them. Harley was jerked by her arm and lead out of the bank's emergency exit and taken to their home, where she was being given a verbal and physical punishment.

He stormed off and headed toward the second floor of the warehouse. When Harley started following him, he shot her a glare that made her stop in her tracks. He got to the top of the stairs and sat down on his old, worn out mattress with a hard thump. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. Tonight was just another example of what he knew from the beginning. Harley was not cut out for this life. The only reason anybody feared her was because they associated her with him. But by herself, she was about as intimidating as a stray kitten with new grown claws. She was also too obsessed with him. Nearly every second of every day was filled with 'I love you!'s or other sickeningly sweet phrases that meant nothing to him. Sure she was attractive and a good lay, but he _hated_ being in this relationship. Upon consideration, taking a girl he found in Arkham Asylum and manipulating her to his will wasn't as good an idea as he thought. He stood up and sighed. He knew what he had to do.

Walking downstairs, he saw Harley hunched over a crate in the center of the floor with the sound of scribbling emanating from her workspace. She jumped up when he heard his footsteps walking towards her. She turned towards him and he saw she had a folded piece of paper in her hands.

"Puddin'!" She said contritely. "I'm really, really sorry about, you know."

"Uh huh" He said monotonously.

"So, I drew you this!" She said with an earnest excitement. Harley handed him the folded paper and he opened it and saw her childlike apology. It was a sketch of him and her holding hands with a big, red heart above the two, and a equally red 'Sorry' underneath them. She was watching him hoping that he'd like it.

"Well…?" She asked with hope.

He closed his eyes and took a deep sigh.

"This isn't gonna work, Harleen." He casually said tossing the card behind him. Harley's eyes went wide and her heart broke in two. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. "Look, you just aren't meant for this life."

Harley was doing her best to hold back tears. She took a huge gulp and tried forming a coherent sentence.

"What…what are you talking about?" She asked as her voice went up higher. "I, I can handle it."

"No, you can't." He responded. "I've been watching you. Every time I take you out to actually do something, you freeze up. Not just at the bank, but when we meet with other crime lords, during shootouts. You hate everything about this life.

"But I…I can't go anywhere else!" Harley protested. "Remember how you told me I had to kill off Harleen Quinzel? I did! I can't go back to my old life, Puddin'! I can't!" She cried.

"If it makes you feel better, you never really abandoned your old life." He coldly consoled. Harley looked at him with watery eyes and asked him what he meant. "Harley Quinn is everything Harleen Quinzel isn't. She's the ego that knows how to take care of business. All you've been doing is pretending to be Harley Quinn. Just Harleen in a mask."

These words struck a chord deep within Harley/Harleen. Was he right? Was she still the same mousy geek she used to be? Had she ever changed? She wiped her eyes and did her best to convince the love of her life that she was worthy of being with him.

"Puddin', please…" She meekly said before his rough hand grabbed her shoulder and started pushing her toward the door of the warehouse. Harley begged and begged, but her pleas fell on deaf ears as she was pushed out the door. She tripped over her boots and fell onto the cement ground. Sniffling, she turned around and looked to the doorframe where he stood, closing the door.

"Listen, until you've got what it takes to make it in Gotham's underworld, you can't hang around here." He said closing the door. Harley stood up and swallowed another lump of pain and began walking away from her home of two months. The sound of an opening door reached her ears and she turned around joyfully but was disappointed when she heard him say, "And if you come back, start calling me the Joker like everyone else. None of that 'Puddin'' crap.", followed by another door slam. Harley braced herself and started walking into the cold night.

Harley wished she had taken her jacket before she left. Wearing nothing but a red and black leather skirt and corset with a matching pair of boots and jester hat didn't cut it on a night in Gotham. She honestly had nowhere to go. She had no home or friends. No money for a hotel. All she had to her name were the clothes on her back and the thoughts in her head.

_'Face it, Harley. Life sucks.' _She told herself. _'You're a nineteen-year-old college dropout, who's homeless and in love with a psychotic clown. And you've been dumped. _She continued her inner conversation, trying to come up with a solution to her woes. She needed to prove that she was capable of being a good criminal to the Joker. That she's not a little girl who freaks out at the slightest sign of danger. That she has was it takes to be the girlfriend of _the _Joker.

While thinking, she came upon a chain of small businesses located near the Narrows that were closed for the night. Slowly, an idea formed in the back of her head. Most of these businesses were small and family owned, and most likely too cheap to afford good security. If she were to break into a couple and rob them of their money, she could most likely win her love back. Harley looked up and down the sidewalk. The streets were empty. She took that to mean there were no witnesses.

She went around to the back of the first of the stores, known as "Sionis Laundry", with a wonderful giddiness. Thanks to the Joker, she knew how to pick locks with a kit he gave her that she kept on the belt attached to her skirt. Harley reached for some tools and went for the knob. But when she put her hand on it, she found the knob was loose. Her brow arched and she pondered if the owners were in, or if somebody else was robbing this place. She licked her lips and decided that this is what real criminals do. They take what they want, when they want, and how they want, no matter who was there. But just in case whoever inside was armed, she prepped her stun gun, another gift from Puddin'.

Harley walked slowly inside the laundromat, hand on taser, and mentally prepared for her first real crime. She noticed no lights were on, so she began walking around aimlessly through the darkened shop. Eventually her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she was able to see more clearly, but still had no idea where to go.

_'Safes' _she thought. _'I'll see if there's a safe I can break open. Wait…can I crack a safe? Eh, how hard can it be?'_

Her newly adjusted eyesight informed her she was in a back office, a perfect hiding place for a safe. Harley reached around in the darkness, feeling anything in her way. The feeling of hard wood made her think she was touching a desk. She crouched down and squinted looking to see if there was a safe below. Her efforts were fruitless, as she couldn't even see her own nose.

Suddenly a beam of light entered the room. Harley knew it was the other robber. Panic set in as she began to cower. She crawled on the floor and hid under the desk to hide herself from the mysterious light holder.

"There you are" a feminine voice playfully said flicking a switch on.

Harley's eyes burned as bright light filled the room. She kept quiet though, rubbing her dilating pupils. When she could see again, she looked to see who was in the room. Carefully peeping her head out, Harley got a glimpse of the second robber. It was an older woman, most likely in her late twenties, with red hair that went halfway down her neck. She wore a doctor's coat with words Harley couldn't read from such a distance, but she was able to make out that the lady was wearing a green tank top underneath the coat with a matching darker green skirt. She walked around the office, obviously looking for something. After walking towards the opposite side of the office, she squealed with happiness discovering what she'd been searching for. Harley squinted and saw it was a regular white envelope.

"Finally!" The red head yelled in a hushed whisper hugging the envelope to her chest. "Now that diamond is mine!"

"Not if I got anything to say about it." A deep burly voice replied on Harley's side of the room. Harley was afraid to look, but she was sure this was the owner of the laundromat. "Those are my personal belongings, Isley. And I'll be damned if you're getting hold of them." Isley. Why did that name sound familiar to Harley?

"Roman, I am taking that diamond. And you're not getting this card back until you take it from my cold dead fingers." The doctor furiously retorted, nearly crumpling the envelope in her hand. Although she was very scared, Harley couldn't help but think that these two were speaking in the worst cliché's possible. A pair of legs in business attire appeared in front of the desk. Harley put her hand on her stun gun.

"Perfect." Roman smugly stated. "I got a new gun I been meaning to break in." Harley heard the cocking of the gun and pulled her taser out and fired at the legs. A small buzzing sound was heard as the ends of the gun made contact and pumped in unknown amounts of electricity into the business suit clad legs. The threatening figure crumpled to the ground and convulsed as the stun gun did what it did best. Eventually the figure stopped convulsing and just lied there and Harley let go of the gun's trigger. Meekly, she crawled out from under the desk and moved around the body to stand up. Harley saw the robber with a look of awe on her face. Looking down, Harley gave the figure a small kick.

"You, uh…" She said with hesitation. "You don't think I killed him, do you?"

The red head smiled. She walked over to the crumpled figure, while pocketing the envelope, and crouched. After poking and prodding, she got up and put her hands in her pocket.

"No, you didn't kill him." She reassured. "But you did a great job knocking him out cold. You ever done that before?"

"Uh-uh" Harley whispered. "First time I ever really hurt someone."

"Well, you did a great job." The doctor responded. She extended her left hand from her pocket towards Harley. "My name is Pamela Isley."

After a brief hesitation, Harley took it and shook.

"I'm uh…I'm Harley. Harley…Quinn." Pamela arched a brow and smiled.

"Your parents obviously had a sense of humor." She responded letting go of Harley's hand. Harley giggled nervously and said that they were funny, even though she described them with much harsher words than funny. "I really appreciate your help back there. But what were you doing in here, dressed like that?" Pamela asked motioning a finger up and down Harley's getup.

"Long story." She responded. "I needed money…for a hotel…I, I don't have anywhere to go." Harley gulped with sadness. Pamela saw the girl was desperate. And dressed in a skirt and corset, she was bound to be taken advantage of before the night was over if she was on the streets.

"Hey…" Pamela said. "You did save my life, so I figure I owe you something." She put a hand on Harley's shoulder. "Why don't you come over to my place until you're up on your feet?"

Harley's eyes opened widely. She barely knew this person and she was being invited into her home? Harley wasn't sure if she was safe. This redhead was robbing this place first, but she didn't take any money. She thought that maybe the man she shot and Pamela were lovers who broke up and Pamela was taking something of hers back. Harley looked into Pamela's eyes. They were green, and warm, and…caring. Like the Joker's eyes used to be. Harley gave a small smile in response.

"Ok…" She said. Pamela smiled too. Harley was grabbed by the hand and led over the crumpled body of Roman Sionis and out the door. The two ladies went out into the night towards Pamela's car that was parked out front. The car was an old black sports car that was in pristine condition. Harley thought it was a step above the Joker's old purple Packard.

When the two girls were seated, Harley noticed the writing on Pamela's coat's lapel. She craned her head toward the coat and was able to make what it said.

**P**_oison_

**I**_vy_

The "P" and the "I" in the coat was stitched neatly in with red thread, but the other letters were crudely stitched with black thread.

"Hey, uh…" Harley said, accidentally forgetting the doctor's name. She decided to come up with a nickname to save face. "Red? What's the deal with the words?" Pamela snickered and started up the car.

"I'll explain later, Harley girl" She said with a grin as she put the car into drive and began speeding to her hideout with her new friend.

_A/N: Hope you're liking. Reviews for me?_


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